


Silence Teaches You How to Sing

by InkStainsOnMyHands



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Body Horror, Creepy, Disabled Character, Horror, M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkStainsOnMyHands/pseuds/InkStainsOnMyHands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was known as conversion disorder. For unknown reasons, after experiencing trauma, a person loses the ability to use specific parts of their body. Those who suffered from the condition could have perfectly healthy eyes or legs but could no longer see or walk. In Tadashi’s case, his brain was unable to formulate words to express his thoughts. </p>
<p>Several months after the SFIT expo incident, Hiro finds his brother recovering at a hospital, but something seems off about him somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence Teaches You How to Sing

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is loosely based on true events. While it didn't get direct inspiration from thelittlefears, as most of my other creepy stories do, they did create a video called "Belle Plaine, 1965" which features the same true story.

The call came in on an ordinary thursday afternoon. Aunt Cass burst into Hiro’s room with the full force of a storm, clutching a phone to her chest as tears fell freely from her eyes. She cried out that they had found him, and it took several attempts at trying to translate her choked words into something comprehensible for Hiro to fully understand what she meant. They found his brother. They found Tadashi. 

At first, he assumed that the call was from the coroner, who had finally identified Tadashi's remains. Even four months after his funeral, where they had buried an ornate but empty box, they were unable to find the charred corpse of his brother. The task of locating Tadashi was nearly impossible due to the insurmountable amount of wreckage and debris left behind by the fire. Hiro briefly felt a sense of sad relief that his brother’s remains could finally be put to rest, but Aunt Cass was quick to dismiss him with a hysterical cry that he was found alive. 

Hiro couldn't believe it, wouldn't allow himself to believe it, not until he saw it with his own two eyes. 

Aunt Cass raced them to the general hospital in her pickup truck, expertly weaving in and out of traffic as though she were in a car much younger than the sputtering, ancient machine she drove. She sloppily parked between two spaces, and nearly ran out of the car without turning off the engine. Hiro trailed after her as best he could, but he was weighed down by the lead within his legs and the cold stone of apprehension that settled in his chest. 

By the time Hiro reached the receptionist, who was stationed at a desk in the front lobby, he lost track of his Aunt amidst the white, sterile halls. He asked the woman at the counter to point him in the direction of where - he was forced to pause. A lump in his throat cut off his words. He couldn't say it, he couldn’t form the words that would make his situation real. Because, if it were real, and then it was suddenly taken away from him again, it would break him. 

Despite his lack of verbal eloquence, the receptionist gave him a knowing smile and had a nurse escort him to room “210”. He followed a short, middle-aged brunette in pink scrubs through the elevator and onto the second floor. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the main area where hospital rooms lined the walls surrounding the central nurse’s station. 

Hiro expected a flurry of activity, like he had seen on the medical dramas his Aunt frequently watched, but he was met with an almost eerie calm. It seemed as though the only two people on the entire floor were himself and the nurse. In between the encompassing silence, the faint sounds of beeping heart monitors and the tip-tap of his own two feet could be heard. He peaked into the open windows of the rooms he passed by, finding stale bodies kept semi-alive by plastic tubes and metal bars. The apprehension in his chest turned into dread; what was he going to find inside Tadashi’s room? 

Hiro’s mind created images of blackened skin and ugly scarring, making his stomach churn painfully. However, when he reached the assigned room, he was greeted by a fit young man with unblemished skin, bright almond-shaped eyes, and a smile so familiar that he felt as though he had come home after months of being away. 

His brother’s outstretched arms created a gravitational force that Hiro couldn’t fight even if he wanted to. He galloped to the nearest side of his elder brother’s bed and embraced him. A warmth spread from where his body met Tadashi’s, filling him with a comfort and safety he hadn’t felt since the SFIT expo incident. For the first time since Tadashi had gone missing, he was happy. 

After several heartbeats, Hiro felt a hesitant tap on his shoulder. The younger man turned his head toward the origin of the contact and found his Aunt Cass. She was smiling, but the edges of her lips faltered sharply. Her shimmering eyes held a pensiveness to them that did not quite match the elation she had expressed but minutes earlier. “Come on, we don’t want to overwhelm him so soon,” she said with a voice that was both quiet and distant. 

Tadashi shifted underneath Hiro. The younger brother looked up at see Tadashi shake his head vigorously. The hold around Hiro tightened almost painfully, making it nearly difficult to breathe. Hiro found himself uncaring of the discomfort, because it was proof that his brother was real and alive and in his arms. 

“I-I’m g-going to go grab the doctor,” his aunt stuttered. She backed away slowly, as though she were stepping away from a snarling animal. Once she reached the door, she turned on her heel and exited the room in one quick motion. 

Hiro thought the behavior odd, but didn’t take the time to ponder the absurdity of human nature. Instead, he spent more time enjoying the feeling of being held by the person he loved the most, who had just come back from the dead. 

Too soon, a tall, dark-haired, portly man in a white labcoat entered the room. Hiro was forced to let go of his anchor, adhering to the polite sensibilities his brother had once taught him, but not without chagrin. 

The doctor explained that Tadashi was doing phenomenally, and was completely physically healthy. However, until recently, he struggled to communicate. He could not speak, and every word he wrote down was hurried and nonsensical. Without identification, there was no way to find out who he was or where he had come from. He became a ward of the state, and while the local government had conducted an investigation, his image was lost among the clutter of social media and overabundance of desentizing information. Even in a world where everything was tracked and recorded, it was easier now, more than ever, to become a ghost. 

The doctor went on to explain that Tadashi was finally able to identify himself when he had pointed frantically at his television as it had displayed Hiro being interviewed about his robotics ventures. 

“But why is he like that?” Aunt Cass cut in sharply. Hiro felt the hair on his neck rise. He had never heard her speak so cruelly, as though each syllable of her question were coated in abhorrence or disgust. 

Tadashi stiffened visibly. Hiro felt a hot burst of anger heat his face. How could she - his own aunt - speak like that about Tadashi? Who cared if he couldn’t speak or write? He was alive, and that was all that should matter. 

The doctor, nevertheless, confirmed that Tadashi did suffer from an abnormality. It was known as conversion disorder. For unknown reasons, after experiencing trauma, a person loses the ability to use specific parts of their body. Those who suffered from the condition could have perfectly healthy eyes or legs but could no longer see or walk. In Tadashi’s case, his brain was unable to formulate words to express his thoughts. While the rest of his mental faculties were normal or above average, his language skills were that of someone who suffered from an extreme case of autism. 

This explanation seemed to placate Aunt Cass, but only enough so that she didn’t flinch when Tadashi made the tiniest of movements. When they discharged Tadashi, however, Hiro couldn’t help but notice that Aunt Cass kept as much distance between her and her elder nephew as politely possible. 

\---

During the night of his brother’s return, Hiro dreamt of fire. Though flames licked at his feet and smoke filled his lungs, he did not feel the burn of the inferno. No, he felt frozen. Primordial ice cooled his veins, numbing him to everything but Tadashi’s agonizing screams for someone to help him. 

Hiro awoke unable to breathe. Cold sweat saturated his clothes, making them cling uncomfortably to his skin. His heart drummed painfully against his ribcage, making his entire chest ache. He trembled so terribly that the ancient springs underneath him squeaked in protest. His awareness came back to him like a physical slap, bringing attention to how his nerves prickled hotly under his flesh. 

Searching for a means to ground himself back to reality, he looked toward the divider that separated his space from Tadashi’s. In the last few months, seeing that space reminded him of his loss, of the pit of emptiness that had swallowed everything until he was nothing but flesh, bone and sorrow. But, knowing that the space was no longer unoccupied, knowing that his brother was just on the other side of the rice paper if he needed him, filled the hole inside of him with something akin to comfort. It was a good feeling, and it was almost enough to lull him back to sleep. 

Almost. 

Just as Hiro steeled himself to get up and make his way over to his brother’s side of the room, the divider opened haltingly slow. It made aborted clattering noises as it struggled to work against itself and the floor. Each inch that opened only revealed more and more darkness, as though it were a physical inky shroud permeating Tadashi’s space. 

The logical part of his brain was distinctly aware that Tadashi was the only one who could possibly open the divider, yet he couldn’t help but feel unsettled as a shadow was seemingly begotten from the blackness. For several heartbeats, it stood motionless on the other side of his older brother’s space. Its head was directed towards the boy, whose heart began to hiccup within his chest. Just as Hiro felt his tongue stiffen and his throat close, it padded, one heavy step after another, over to his bedside; each connecting thud pounded through Hiro’s head. 

Without light to aid him, Hiro was only able to make out indistinct lines and patterns of the still being next to him. His brain muttered that it was just Tadashi, but it could not be heard over the pounding inside of his head and chest. His trembling hand searched blindly in the darkness for the lamp switch beside him, but to his increasing adrenaline, he couldn’t find it. He felt himself lurch away when he saw the shadow reach out towards him. 

A sudden illumination, originating from the bedside lamp he had tried to locate, spilled over the room. To his logic’s credit, his brother truly was the one standing over him. The notch between Tadashi’s eyebrows and his downcast eyes betrayed his concern. Silently, he sat beside Hiro. He reached out, using one hand to palm his little brother’s cheek and the other to smooth back the damp hair the stubbornly clung to his forehead. 

Hiro felt his tension evaporate. His taut shoulders slackened in response to Tadashi’s light touches. His heart slowed as it warmed, melting the ice over his frostbitten lungs. He smiled at his brother, who in return, smiled down at him. 

Tadashi pointed to the empty space beside Hiro. The younger man’s exhaustion-addled brain took an extraordinarily long moment to reach the desired conclusion. “You want to sleep with me, tonight?” Hiro asked, merely to ensure that his meaning translated correctly. It was no surprise when the elder Hamada nodded his head. 

Hiro scooted over allowing Tadashi the room to slip beneath the comforter and rest next to him. The younger man closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber. 

\---

Tadashi’s recovery was slow, if even existent. He did not speak. He did not write. Despite additional weeks of therapy, he was unable to communicate. Instead, he made small gestures that he would match with his expressions. 

Hiro had become quite good at reading them. It was their own little language, and for some reason, that made the younger Hamada feel special. 

Hiro appreciated the fact that Tadashi only shared his inner thoughts with him. Aunt Cass didn’t even try to join their circle; if anything she seemed to be actively avoiding her elder nephew. Everyone else was an outsider, and although Tadashi had known no strangers in the past, he had become quite averse to interacting with the rest of the world. It was strange and disconcerting, but he figured that once his older brother got better, he wouldn’t hold himself in their room as much. 

\---

Several more weeks went by, and the nightmares only seemed to get worse. Their theme would never change, but they grew increasingly vivid. Tadashi’s screams would pierce the veil into his waking world, but his older brother would always be there silently waiting for him, like a patient statue situated right beside him as he tossed and turned. 

It became a routine so well versed that Tadashi had stopped turning on the light all together. He simply waited until Hiro acknowledged his presence before climbing into bed with him. At first, they would only exchange the briefest of touches, a fingertip here or there, but eventually the younger man would find himself falling back asleep in Tadashi’s tender embrace while his heart thudded along in his chest. 

\---

Hiro couldn’t take one more moment of Tadashi forlornly looking out the window of their room. Without a word to his brother, Hiro invited the nerd crew to the cafe. It was time. 

They had already been informed of Tadashi’s discovery well in advance, and while they had initially been excited to greet him again, Hiro had also warned them away - for the time being. He was still recovering from his trauma, and the doctor had explicitly advised against social overstimulation. However, it had officially spilled into the months range of finding him again, and it couldn’t hurt to at least greet his old friends. 

Hiro had been wrong. 

When Tadashi walked down the stairs to the cafe to see his former lab partners, he looked lost, almost afraid. 

Their friends shared a range of his expression. GoGo’s features were twisted into something ugly and wrong, as though his brother’s presence threatened her own. Wasabi wore the face of someone who had seen a ghost and only barely lived to tell the tale. Fred, who had always seemed amused over even the most striking of dangerous situations, looked as though he were just slapped in the face. Honey-Lemon was the only one in the group who had smiled, but her features were plastic-like and so utterly forced that they lost all meaning. 

Hiro was disgusted by their attitude. This was Tadashi! He had just, essentially, come back from the dead, and they were skirting around him as though he were some sort of vile monster. In order to spare his older brother’s feelings, he didn’t express his thoughts out loud, but once they made their half-hearted attempts at pleasantries and Tadashi had gone back upstairs to rest, he glared daggers at his teammates. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Hiro hissed at them. 

Only Honey-Lemon had the decency to look guilt-stricken. The rest just eyed the staircase where Tadashi had made his exit. 

Wasabi was the first to recover. The burly, dread-locked man looked deeply into his eyes. His fear, his concern, his desperation was written in the hard lines over the corner of his lips. “Hiro, there’s something wrong -” 

Hiro shook his head vigorously, interrupting the other man’s words. A thickness in his throat choked him. A wet, heavy thing settled behind his eyes, threatening to spill from him. Whether out of anger, fear or embarrassment, he looked away.

“Hiro!” GoGo hissed, but the boy refused to look at her until she placed her hands on his slim shoulders and forced him to. There was a fury in her almond-shaped eyes, but it didn’t scorch him. No, it was directed elsewhere, and that frightened Hiro even more.“You need to stay away from him!” 

Honey-Lemon came to his other side. She placed a hand on his arm. He twisted to meet her, to seek some form of comfort from the hurt that stabbed at his heart sharply. Surely, the tall, blonde girl would see reason; she was the kindest of the group, more willing than anyone else to give people a chance. However, by the slight tremble of her shoulders, Hiro felt his stomach drop as he realized that his hope was misplaced.“Hiro, is there some other place Tadashi can recover? Maybe back at the hospital?” 

Hiro’s world fell away from him. His vision cracked down the middle. He was cornered, and he didn’t understand why. 

He looked to Fred, the person who had been his brother’s friend since high school. The lanky blond stood just next to Wasabi, and like his taller friend, he did not approach. Instead, he shook his head in slow movements, similar to the way he saw doctors do when they were delivering bad news to patients. “That guy isn’t Tadashi anymore, little dude.” 

\---

Hiro kept his distance from his friends after that. He didn’t need them anymore. He had Tadashi, and that was all that mattered. They invented, played and had fun together. The outside became increasingly superfluous. 

In Tadashi’s affectionate presence, the younger Hamada had never felt so much attention or love before in his life. He was showered with hugs and kisses, smiles and silent laughter. Though the two brothers could only communicate through charades, Hiro had never felt closer to his brother. 

Everything he had ever wanted out of life was at his fingertips in their own little sanctuary. 

\---

Several weeks later, Hiro awoke from a nightmare to find Tadashi spooning him and peppering the back of his neck with small nips. The affection sent delicious shivers down his spine and to his groin. He moaned. 

After a heart beat, Hiro felt Tadashi shift away from him. Hiro stopped him by taking a hold of the arm that was wrapped around his waist. He tilted his head to offer more of his skin for Tadashi to partake in. The elder man greedily took the invitation, hungirly biting and sucking possessive marks on his body. 

Hiro lost track of time. Before he knew what was happening, he was pantless, on his hands and knees. The length of his elder brother’s hard flesh was rocking so magnificently hard inside of him. Their skin collided with bruising slaps that reverberated throughout the room, polluting the air with erotic noise. The bed beneath them rattled and squeaked in protest against force of their lovemaking.   
Hiro clutched at his pillow as if it were a lifeline. The cushion offered him a way to muffle his cries as Tadashi continued to pound against the spot inside of him that sent sparks of pure bliss all over his body, making him spasm and writhe underneath his lover. 

All too soon, Tadashi spilled inside of him as he, too, came undone. 

\---

Hiro nearly gasped when he looked into the mirror and found the evidence of what had transpired the previous night clawed and bitten into his skin. He was littered with bruises, scratches and teeth marks. Far from being perturbed, Hiro found the image staring back at him oddly thrilling. He masturbated twice in the shower. 

\---

Aunt Cass burst into Hiro’s room with the full force of a storm, clutching a knife to her chest as a rage brewed in her eyes. “Get away from him!” she screamed. 

The boys stared at her from where they were sitting on the floor, a board game lay forgotten between them. Neither of them moved, too shocked by the outburst to properly react. 

Cass galloped to her youngest nephew’s side. She scooped him up by the underside of his arm and pulled him to the door as he struggled. She kept the sharp end of her butcher’s knife pointed towards the elder brother. 

“What are you doing?” Hiro cried out. He dug his heels into the wooden floor beneath him, but it was no use. Years of lifting heavy bags of flour and baking equipment had bestowed his Aunt with an invisible strength. Her grip on his arm was painfully tight, and no amount of wiggling or pulling away allowed him escape. 

Halfway between Tadashi and the door, Aunt Cass stopped her retreat. She released the boy in her grasp, but used her arm to push and keep Hiro behind her. “The coroner called,” she growled in between pants of heavy breath, “they found his bones - they found Tadashi’s bones.” 

Hiro felt as though a lightning bolt hit him square in the chest. Shocks of electricity coursed through his veins, singeing where they met muscle and bone. He trembled as his flesh was saturated with a terror far too profound for words. “That can’t be -” Hiro muttered under his breath before his aunt interrupted him. 

“They ran the test four times,” Aunt Cass assured with a hysterical cry. She focused her lethal green eyes on the man who was most definitely not her eldest nephew. “I knew there was something wrong with you! Who the hell are you?” 

Not-Tadashi stood slowly. He uncurled himself from his position as though he were a snake about to slither to his next meal. His eyes flashed with a dangerous intention as he stared at the couple who had taken him in and attempted to nurse him back to health for the last several months. His lips twisted themselves into a smirk that had no place on Tadashi’s angelic face. The monster that had stolen Hiro’s virginity, marked his flesh and made him his stalked towards the pair. 

It opened its mouth in a mockery of a grin. Several rows of razor-sharp teeth revealed themselves. They glinted ominously in the afternoon sun.

“I am the Taker,” it said. It’s low, humming voice echoed painfully between Hiro’s ears. It felt as though a swarm of locusts had buried themselves in his head and fluttered wildly against his brain. “The boy is mine. He gave himself to me willingly.” 

Before a black curtain fell over his eyes and his wobbling legs collapsed underneath him, Hiro could hear his brother screaming in the distance.


End file.
